Blessèd Expectance
by erudite quill
Summary: Sequel to Beloved Anatomy, though can be read on its own. Remus reacts to Nymphadora's pregnancy, and all sorts of things follw. :D Please read and review!
1. Escalating Thoughts

Nymphadora can feel her excitement rising when she walks through the doors to Grimmauld Place and looks at herself in the mirror. She has a feeling that something incredible is going to happen in the next few months; something that will change her (and Remus') life forever. A smile dances across her lips and half even emigrates up to her eyes. She's beaming. It is this moment that she decides there is to be no more morphing; that she will stay the same for the next nine months for fear of any more complications than might happen normally considering the parentage of the small being that _might _be growing inside of her. As she stares into the mirror, she crosses her fingers and toes, closes her eyes and murmurs a prayer to whatever deity might be up there and willing to grant the desire of one hopeful metamorphing witch.

She has had signs; she's missed _it,_ and due to the fact that she and the resident werewolf aren't exactly celibate it's certainly a plausible hope and idea. Nymphadora turns to the side to examine her still rather flat stomach, placing a hand protectively on it despite the fact that there might not be anything there and this just might be her imagination or dreams running away with her mind. She wonders what he will say; she chews on her lip thoughtfully as she wonders how on earth she might broach this subject to a self-hating werewolf who is so completely sure that he's too old, poor and dangerous for her and who at the back of his mind believes that any day now she is going to up and run off with some good-looking auror with the world at his feet.

There are two ways that this could go.

_a.)_, she thinks to herself, _he tells me it's the happiest day of his life, and that he is so incredibly happy he will never doubt either of us again. Then his eyes will fill with tears and we'll embrace and then who knows what else might happen._ Naughty Tonks, she is letting her mind drift off to lands of nostalgia, thinking of the last night they had before he was sent back out to the underground when she really ought to be predicting his reactions and finding ways to counter each (unless it's good of course, then she has naught to worry about).

_Or, b.),_ her nose wrinkles automatically as she gauges this reaction miserably. _He tells me that this is impossible, that it's either not his, or that he cannot possibly be a parent during the war, and that the fact he is a werewolf will harm me or the baby or both of us._ Damn. She knows it's probably going to be the latter, Remus and his damned nobility. She thinks it's funny however, that he would say he's taking the higher point in the case here, that she deserves better and that he is not the sort of man who would make a good parent, when in fact he's just going to a bleeding hypocrite by leaving her and their unborn child.

Nymphadora will make sure that if there is a baby, it will have _both_ parents.

Grumbling to herself at how stressful this is going to be, and how hard she's going to have to work in order to make him see what a ruddy idiot he's being, she decides to take a preemptive strike, and make herself as drab and dreary as she was when he kept refusing to love her. That way she'd beat him to the depression before morphing became perhaps a bit too dangerous.

Down went the red hair to bleak brown, her eyes were the same muddy colour, but they still held her sparkle and light; this time he wouldn't be able to rid her of those.

Nymphadora has not told a soul about this yet. Well, apart from the muggle department store clerk when she took her lunch break to look for funky maternity clothes _just in case_. She made a point of telling him, "I might be pregnant…" casually, to which she received a knowing smile as if the man had seen many women in her position in the same giddy-disguised-as-calm state.

She decides she can't wait until she's big enough to wear them.

She has also told the deaf old lady with the mole who runs the checkout stand at the Chinese restaurant down the road. The only difference being here that the woman doesn't understand a whit of English, and she only nodded and handed her the rice and fortune cookie she had ordered.

Nymphadora is holding the takeout in her hand as she peers into the kitchen, finding that no one has returned home today. This is good she supposes, since she can sit and eat in peace, read her fortune and then nip upstairs for perhaps a little nap before anyone else gets in.

Her mind is wandering already, and she begins to wonder what the child will be like. Will it have Remus' kind eyes? Her sense of adventure? Their acceptance of things diverse? The smile creeps back up onto her face, and she's staring dreamily into the small box of rice as images of babies and Remus and cradles and other such things cross through her mind.

She takes another bite and wrinkles her nose. She wonders what she might have cravings for and desperately hopes that it's Chinese since she gets a discount and loves it so much. She overheard some expectant mothers in the department store earlier saying that they had wanted kippers and asparagus, and borscht with toast throughout theirs. She makes a face as she recalls this and prays that she doesn't want anything too odd; she's very picky when it comes to food, and if she finds out later she had wanted kippers or borscht, she might just die.

Lost in her thoughts, she doesn't hear the front door creak open, the sound of rain pouring down flooding the inside of the foyer in echoes. An umbrella is tapped against the doorway and propped up in the claw-foot stand as the man steps inside and removes his sopping shoes. He is exhausted and swears that his hair is greyer and there are more wrinkles around his face than ever before. He knows he has new scars and really doesn't want to have to show them to anyone, especially _her_. She deserves someone intact and it breaks his heart every time she gazes upon his broken body because he wishes so greatly to _be_ that whole man, but knows deep down that he never can be and very much believes he doesn't deserve her, _this_, anything.

Remus sees her in the kitchen, a dazed look on her face as her toes curl around the leg of the chair while she eats her takeout. She's a picture of perfect loveliness to him; even now with her dull appearance, something he will have to ask her about later, _later_ when he tells her what he really needs to say.

He quietly removes his shabby coat, hanging it up upon the rack that she so often trips over and a crooked smile crosses his lips and half of him wonders how he'll ever survive without her quirky and endearing qualities. The other part scolds it quickly, saying he'll go on as before and he will live, even though _none_ of him believes that wholly.

Lupin glances down at his right sock, watching as his toe peeks out of a hole he has yet to mend knowing that if he mends these socks any more they will fall apart. Much like everything else he owns or loves. Except _her,_ which is why he cannot have her any longer, or she will too, and he couldn't have that. His intention renewed, he decides that he really needs a good rest more than anything else, and begins to walk up the stairway.

Nymphadora hears and leans to look out the doorway and into the foyer.

"Remus? Is that you?" She asks softly, knowing that it is and she wonders why he hasn't spoken a greeting, or at least sneaked up behind her to giver her his usual tired embrace.

"It is."

His response is so hushed that she barely hears it, but the tone cuts her heart in half before she even realizes it.

"Oh?" She bites her lip and pushes some rice around in the box with her plastic chopsticks. "Why don't you come in and sit down? I'll make you some tea…" She offers meekly, knowing subconsciously that it's going to be refused.

"I'm going to go have a quick kip…" He murmurs to the wall, forehead against it as he tries not to break his resolve there and then before he has _even _talked to her.

"Oh. Ok." Nymphadora nods and hears him walk the rest of the stairs, and duly notes that the door closing is not the one to their shared bedroom, but to the one across the hall that he used to inhabit before Sirius' death, before they were together. Her heart catches in her throat and it seems that her good news and joy are dashed before she even gets a chance to share them with the other half of the tango.

She wrinkles her nose to keep the tears from leaking down her pale face, taking one of the chopsticks and stabbing the fortune cookie miserably. She has lost her appetite. She glances down and sees the lucky numbers on the back of the thin strip of paper. Not even bothering to read it, she trudges into the living room to lay on the couch, not even able to bear being on the same floor as him in case he is about to say what she thinks he is.

The lonely fortune stays crumpled on the tabletop professing:

_A dream will always triumph over reality, once it is given the chance._

_-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

**Ok! This is the first chapter to my sequel, please review so I knowif it's worth continuing, xD**

**The last quote of the fortune cookie is a quote I found on some website, by Stanislaw Lem. (I think, that's what it says there). I thought it fit rather well there, and seemed better than making up a corny one of my own!**

**Anyway, Disclaimer, you all know I don't own them even though I wish I did. :D**


	2. Grief & Discussions

It has been two weeks and Nymphadora feels as though she has cried out every tear inside of her. They had their little 'discussion', if it could even be called that, considering the fact that it was merely Remus speaking and holding his hand up every time she tried to interrupt and say what she had and so dearly wanted to tell him. His words were laced with the undertone of_ I love you, but…_, and she wanted to cry even though she had been so happy just hours earlier.

She hadn't gotten the chance to tell him, directly after their conversation she felt nauseous and fled to the nearest toilet only to find that he had left when she returned. He hasn't been back in the two weeks that she has moped about and felt ill. He hasn't been back in the time that she has found out _for sure_.

Nymphadora sits on her bed, a pile of crumpled papers in front of her. A note from Remus that dates back six months, the fortune from the takeout which seems so long ago and of course the parchment that states that yes indeed she _was _carrying a tiny being inside of her and gave her the date of her next appointment.

She hadn't told them that the father was infected with lycanthropy, just made it seem as though she was an incredibly overprotective mother who had to know every stage and moment of her pregnancy. If there was anything wrong with the baby she had no doubts that the medi-witch would tell her and they could do whatever was needed in order to fix it.

She had been wrong, she still had more tears to shed; Nymphadora had been feeling increasingly moody lately, and she was sure that Molly had caught on since the older woman had taken to smiling knowingly whenever they were in the same room. Damn woman's intuition. At least her mother hadn't found out as of yet, the consequences there would be more brutal than she could handle right now.

She was nearly three months pregnant and no one (save the department store clerk and deaf old lady) knew about it. This was one secret she really despised keeping. Her breathing quickened slightly, and she felt her stomach start to coil and she made a face as she quickly leapt off of the bed, and ran into the bathroom as sickness overcame her.

In her quick departure from the blankets of her bed, the papers fluttered into the air, landing back on the mattress safely, except for the still unread fortune that flew discreetly underneath the bed, hidden from view by the bed skirt. Ah well, it probably wouldn't be missed.

Wiping her eyes as she left the bathroom, Nymphadora gently, carefully placed the papers upon her night stand, needing some sleep desperately. She felt as though she could sleep the rest of the day and not feel badly about it. Something she had found to be becoming the norm as of late. Yawning tiredly, she glanced into the mirror, looking at the tear tracks that were marked all across her cheeks, the way her hair just hung there, but at least her eyes still held the strength and determination that she wanted to believe she had in order to get him back.

Near exhaustion, she slid underneath the covers, not really caring that she was still wearing her clothes from work; she just lay her head down on the pillow and stared at a photograph of her and Remus smiling as they stood outside of Platform 9 & 3/4 smiling and waving as if there were no cares in the world for them. She laughed bitterly and closed her eyes as tears seeped through her long, brown lashes and trickling down onto the pillow.

This was how she fell to sleep, exhausted and near hysteria, but she did fall asleep, and she continued to sleep for a good four hours before she even _thought _about waking up.

Renting a room in Diagon Alley always has its ups and downs. On the positive side, he is near everything that he could ever need, and Remus has the quiet that he positively loves. On the other hand, everyone knows him here, and questions will be asked as to why he is staying there and not at home. Here he is alone to wallow in guilt and self-pity, no one is here to tell him otherwise, to embrace and console him. This is what he thinks he deserves.

Sitting on the edge of his rented bed with his head in his hands he watches his heart tear in half over and over again from behind his eyelids. Remus had thought he was doing the right thing, letting her go the first time, yet his heart had overrode his mind and he had sought after the fairytale idea that they might live happily ever after despite his misgivings. They had had a splendid relationship by his standards; she had accepted him for _him, _and said she loved him for everything that he was, not excluding the werewolf.

The wolf had jumped inside at that, saying _I knew it! She is the one for us! _After careful reconsideration of this, he has decided for the both of them that it would be better if she finds someone else. Someone who is younger, whole, worthy of her attentions.

Someone he can never be. This saddens him immensely and he tries very, _very_ hard to keep the tears inside as he pictures her pale, heart-shaped face breaking down with grief as he tells her that it cannot be. Why did he have to feel love? He was a monster; he didn't deserve this feeling of bliss and caring!

This was what she argued, and it had almost worked this last time; she had opened her mouth to say something else and his reality had snapped and he had burst into another long tirade as to why they should never have given into temptation. Nymphadora had run into the bathroom, and he had _so desperately _wanted to run in after her to embrace her as she was sick; but his morals held his feet to the ground, and he had taken this moment to take his things and run.

_Coward_, the wolf inside tells him now, probing at his brain and heart until he gives in to the torture and breaks down in tears. His shoulders heave, and he thinks to himself that if _she_ were here, she would be massaging the pain away; but now, _now_ she was not, and the pain was in an impossible position to be kissed or stroked away.

He glances over at the steaming cup of tea he had ordered up and he knows he should drink it since it was more money than he could afford to part with if he wastes it. Reaching over long, scarred fingers to curl around the cup's handle he pulls it to his lips. He tilts it to his mouth and lets the hot liquid scald his throat on its way down. Comforting torture. Remus sets the cup back down on the nightstand and looks at his watch.

It's just now mid-afternoon. He hasn't heard from the young witch in ages, and he knows that while they are not on the friendliest terms right now, the last time they had fought they had at least seen each other. As if on cue, there is a peck at his window and he looks up to be greeted by a small, inept little owl that is waiting on the other side of the glass. Sighing, he stands up and opens it, recognizing Pig immediately.

Molly's worried. He reaches for the parchment curled in the bird's talons, and unrolls it slowly, almost akin to a student worried that their parents have sent him a howler. The text is scrawled in an angry hand, berating him for leaving Tonks alone in the house when she so obviously needs him at times like these.

Apparently she thinks that Remus knows about her 'condition'.

He furrows his brow in confusion as he looks over the writing and crumples it up immediately; tossing it on the mattress as he grabs for his robe and exits the borrowed room in a rush of dust. Tea forgotten and inadvertently wasted. Yet right now Remus really doesn't care, as it seems that the woman that he so desperately loves is in need of him. He knows that he is being a hypocrite to his own beliefs, but if Molly was that angry with him he had obviously done more harm than he had intended.

Stealing into the nearest alley, he wrinkles his nose and feels the stomach lurching –pop- of apparating.

He stands outside of Grimmauld Place for a good ten minutes before actually attempting to undo the wards and move inside. He doesn't know what he's going to do or say when he sees her, but he knows that he needs to get in there before something happens and he gets blamed.

He opens the door, and finds the young witch sitting lethargically on the couch, her hand on her stomach in a protective manner but it doesn't really register in his mind as to him any offspring seems implausible.

She looks up and gives a weak smile, "Hello." She murmurs, her complexion bleak and blotchy. She hasn't morphed and that scares him.

"We need to talk." He whispers as he lowers himself into the armchair across from her, realizing that it's quite dusty and has been for a while which means that his nymph has done nothing but work and seemingly mope. He feels a complete bastard, and doesn't expect when she nods and opens her mouth.

"Yes we do." She answers, "I've got something important to tell you."


	3. Difficult Decisions

Sitting on the edge of the countertop, Nymphadora has her head in her hands. She doesn't quite know what to expect from Remus after he has collected his thoughts and had time to let the truth and facts actually sink in. Not that he has too much choice of course, it's happened, it's there, and it's staying. She wrinkles her nose slightly as she stifles a yawn. She's just been _so tired _lately. She shivers slightly and leans her head back against the chipped paint on the cupboards. Molly's keeps saying she's been meaning to re-paint them, but hasn't gotten around to it yet. Nymphadora had offered the other day, but the older woman had given an adamant 'no'…she sighs at the thought of _another_ overprotective mother figure. At least Moody hasn't found out yet.

She knows she will have to tell her mother eventually, but she wanted to tell Remus first in case she was in need of running to her parents for comfort and support; in case he was truly incapable of accepting this. She is rather worried actually, wringing her hands and twiddling her thumbs, her eyes gazing idly out the window, glazed over with a combination of exhaustion and worry as she watches a squirrel bat at one of Molly's various bird-feeders trying to get some of the seed out. A small smile creeps towards the left corner of her mouth as she envisions the two of them outside with a little boy, or a little girl, playing in the grass and being a _family_, maybe there would be more? She just had to make him see that he _did _deserve this, and that she would love him forever and always, and so would the child, despite his lycanthropy, despite his age, despite his economic position.

The tea kettle has gone off and is near boiling over, and Nymphadora slips off the counter before walking carefully to the stovetop in order to put it on the cold burner. She takes down her favorite, chipped, red mug and drops an herbal tea bag inside, needing to calm down before she has a heart attack. The anticipation and worry is getting to her. She gives a ragged sigh and a shudder wracks her spine as she pours the boiling water into the cup, wincing as tiny droplets hit her wrist. The kettle settled back comfortably on the stove, she totters miserably into the dining room, setting herself down in one of the chairs at the table, her mug now on the table, she reaches for the container of biscuits and pokes at the wrapping with her bitten fingernails, yawning slightly.

She can hear him; hear him upstairs wearing a hole in the floorboards in the room he's locked himself in. She doesn't know if this is a good thing, or if he's merely trying to come up with another asinine excuse as to why he cannot be with her, and why she ought to go find someone else. Nymphadora feels very weak now, exhausted and nauseous, and she's very, _very_ afraid that she won't be strong enough to defend her position, that she won't be able to tell him what a git he's being and how hypocritical his standpoint is. She's afraid that her emotions are going to take the best of her that she'll burst into tears and end up running into the bathroom giving him the chance to leave and run away. Again. She closes her eyes and places her head in her hands and _waits_.

Remus' jaw literally dropped to the ground when Nymphadora spoke those two words. _I'm pregnant_. His whole, safe little world crashed down around him, before lifting up and filling all of the holes in his heart and soul with a new light; one that he refused to acknowledge in front of her. He had to think about it first, had to weigh all of the consequences and thought up everything that would happen to the both of them before he could either revel in the joy that would be brought from this child, or wallow in even more self-hatred and fear of harming either of them. Why was life so unfair?

He knows it's wrong of him to question the cards that fate has dealt him, but sometimes he wonders what his life would be like if he wasn't what he was. It's usually followed by a ragged sigh, the hunching of his shoulders, and the furrowing of his brow.

He paces the entire length of his room with his head in his hands and that very sigh coursing through his body as his minds travels to that place he wishes he could just pass over. Remus wishes so dearly that he could either turn back the time to save his nymph from this fate, or that he had not ever been bitten. This time he doesn't allow himself to question the fairness of his destiny.

Leaning against the wall momentarily, a soft sob surprisingly escapes the confines of his throat and he stares at his reflection in the mirror. The sad, grievous look in his eyes, the extra grey hairs that have suddenly sprung up out of nowhere, the scars on his arms, chest and _soul_. What if Nymphadora is right? What if she _could_ love him forever, give him the family and the care and the intimacy that he has always _longed _for. Remus feels selfish as he thinks of these things. Who is he that he can dictate out the fate of the woman he loves more than life itself, more than _any_ of those storybook romances that have survived the ages; he feels that someday there should be stories dedicated to _their_ love. They would outshine them all.

The noble side in him is now telling him its side of the story. He begins to walk around the rug near his bed while he follows the ghastly, Weasley-knitted pattern with his eyes. Logic is telling him that she would be better off with someone younger; which he has told himself multiple times. This child could end up being like him, or he might harm the baby without meaning to. The same excuses he had for Nymphadora, he was now using for the baby. His logical, noble side is dictating to him the very justifications that the back of his mind was mulling over.

However, as this is occurring, his conscience and heart decide to begin taking a part in all of this 'talking' about what to do. His conscience immediately refutes every reason, and begins to take action on its own. For him to leave Tonks now, when she was pregnant with _his_ child, would be completely against all of his moral judgments. He could never forgive himself if he ran away from the only love and family he might ever have. He has to admit that his heart is jumping at the prospect of having a child of his own.

Remus has always enjoyed teaching, and interacting with the students at Hogwarts was enough to make him feel _almost_ content with the thought of never having a family, but now, _now_ he will! He will have the woman he has loved for as long as he has known her, and they will together have a baby to show just how strong their feelings for one another truly are. He could leap for joy right now, and would if he knew that Nymphadora wouldn't get worried about either his sanity or his health.

He has been pacing that floor for a good hour and a half by now, but he's sure that he has come up with the correct decision and thus he opens the door and begins to walk down the creaky stairway, wringing his hands in worry as he tries to gauge her reaction. He wants to have the first word as he turns into the dining room, but Nymphadora beats him to it as she stands abruptly and leans tiredly against the tabletop as she struggles to remember her speech.

He opens his mouth to speak, but she is already halfway there and wins by a nose; well, actually a tongue.

"Remus, I know we've been over this loads of times," she begins as she looks up to meet his gaze with her own strong (but tiredly faltering) one. "But I love you, and you know that it doesn't matter to me how old you are, how much money you have, or your _condition_, your excuses are a load of rubbish and right now I really can't take that." Nymphadora feels nauseous, but she knows she has to go on or else he might just leave like last time.

"Look, we're going to have a baby, and whether you like it or not it's coming and I'm keeping it, and I really want you to be a father to it, it is _yours_ after all." She mumbles quietly as she counters an argument before he even decides to use it. Little does she know that his mind is made up and there's nothing that she can do about it. She repeats _I love you_ and waits for his response as her eyes fill up with tears and her stomach begins to do flips but she's going to stand there and wait for him to speak because she's too afraid that he would try to make his escape and she would never see him again. Isn't it ironic that his only cowardice is when it comes to love? She bites the inside of her cheek and waits for his argument so she can refute it, like always.

Remus steps forward, argument prepared in his mind as he nervously returns his hands to his sides. The hours spent above in his room have made him decide that actions speak louder than words and because he has come to this conclusion his hands take their rightful place protectively over her stomach as he presses his lips to hers in a promise that he won't ever put her through this again. It may not be doves and rainbows, but when her arms wind tightly around his neck and she presses closer he knows that she has accepted his apology and that they are ready to proceed with this relationship and family.

He finishes by murmuring "I love you too."


	4. Together Again

Nymphadora has decided that Remus Lupin would make a wonderful father. _Would_, because he will not stop mollycoddling her (even though she thought for sure that that was the elder Weasley woman's job). She barely even has a little bump and he acts as though she may just pop at any moment. From the time she steps out of bed in the morning, to the time she crawls back in at night his protective arms are shielding her from any potential harm. Her mum found out last week, and has been making a fuss about it ever since; sending cards and flowers and baby things to the happy couple every chance she can get. Moody has forbidden her from working, saying that she is only to do what paperwork she can fit into her schedule (which she complained was nothing now, since he wouldn't let her out like she used to). Her only saving grace now is the fact that she is not nearly as sick anymore. Thank Merlin for that. When she was crouched over the toilet for the duration of reviewing whatever she had eaten the night before she sometimes wondered whether or not it was really worth it, but whenever she went to St. Mungo's and looked at the image of their child she cursed herself for even thinking such things.

This was one of those days. Standing in front of the mirror she washes her face and then pats it dry, staring at her tired looking reflection and sighing softly. Excitement is bubbling up in her veins at the thought that she will be able to show Remus what their baby looks like for the first time; she only hopes that this will be the final point in her argument towards his excuses for leaving. She opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue, taking a pre-emptive strike upon the colds that have been going around lately. Checking her teeth for any leftover foodstuffs, she flashes a smile once more before turning to leave the bathroom, grabbing her sweater and slipping it on over her head. Lifting it up, she stands sideways in the full-length mirror and admires the small protuberance as she sighs happily. Something that not even Remus knows is that before she found out about their soon-to-be bundle of joy she used to wonder what it would be like to have a family with Remus; she knows everyone does strange things when in love with someone, and now she realizes that she must have had some sort of idea as to what was going on with her body as she would sometimes stand in front of the mirror and actually morph her torso into looking pregnant and sigh. She's quite embarrassed by this fact now, but knows that now it's true! Nymphadora pulls her sweater down and slides on her jeans, practically jumping into her shoes as she grabs for her hairbrush.

Giving it a quick one through, she smiles and tosses it back onto the dresser. She knows how irritated Remus gets by that, and silently vows to hurry in and tidy up the mess she has created before he goes back into their room. Tonks grabs for her coat and slides it on over her shoulders, flipping her hair over the collar as she stares into the mirror again, doing one last teeth-check as she shuts the door behind her. She jogs down the staircase, not wanting to be late to this important appointment, but slows down as she reaches the bottom knowing that Remus will be listening to the pace she's going and will scold her for being too reckless if she is going too fast. She knows it's because he cares about her and the baby so much, but at the same time she can sometimes feel a bit overwhelmed and annoyed. She loves him though, probably too much and that is why she will put up with it.

Remus is not in the living room, but she hears him pottering around in the kitchen, no doubt making her something to eat since he's bought one of those muggle books and has been trying to follow the diet schedule to the't', as he's frightened of malnutrition for both of them. Nymphadora merely smiles when he does this, thinking it very sweet that he's taking the time to worry about them so much; she knows most fathers don't really worry until it's time. She loves him even more (if possible) for his attentiveness, and wouldn't turn back time for anything in the world.

Remus is scared that he won't be a good father. He knows this fear is evident through his constant cosseting of his dearest nymph, and though she does everything she knows how to comfort him he still has his doubts and they're eating through his mind every time he sits down to look at Nymphadora. Incessant questions frolic across his eyelids when they're closed, _will I succeed? Will the baby be like me? What if it hates me? _Granted some are normal, some are excusable questions and some are just rather silly; when they lie in bed at night Nymphadora seems to have a sixth sense towards his reservations and she knows that when she laces their fingers and begins the trail down his jaw with her lips that they are forgotten, but the very next morning they are right back where they started from, and Remus fears that soon the flashing lighted words will be as bright as the Las Vegas skyline at midnight if he's not careful.

He's also frightened that Nymphadora will laugh at these qualms. He has never spoken them aloud; never brought them up during their serious conversations. He's the man; he ought to be the one who has it all together and can calm _her_ since she's the one who is supposed to be having the nervous breakdowns. Not he! This confuses him, and throughout all of his logic he _knows_ that everyone has doubts, but the other part of his mind wants more than anything to be the noble knight, who can save dear Nymphadora from all of her fears and uncertainties, not have to be rescued himself from the ones that plague his mind every day.

He stands in the kitchen, fully ready in his finest apparel (which means the robes that only have one patch on the left elbow), he wants to be the very best he can be to give a good impression on those at the hospital this afternoon. He doesn't want them to judge him because of his lycanthropy. He is going to have a baby for Merlin's sake. If they give him disdaining, scornful looks when today is supposed to be one of the happiest days of his life he is afraid that he might cry; and that's something he doesn't want to do in front of his strong, beautiful nymph.

Remus shivers slightly as he remembers his last visit to the hospital, but tries to be positive that everything will turn out fine; he only prays that their baby will not be inflicted with his problem. Every night before he sleeps he watches Nymphadora, her eyes closed and a serene smile on her face, and then prays that everything will turn out alright; that he can have the happy family he has always dreamt of. There is nothing more that he would want than to have Nymphadora as his wife with their children running around the house.

Well, he's got one down. He just needs to find a time for the other. He looks out the window and muses to himself as to when that would be. He doesn't want to do it too soon; for fear that she will think that it is merely because they are going to be parents; not for the real reason, which is that he fears losing her more than death, that he loves her more than life itself. He scratches his head as he watches a bird land on the fence outside and smiles as he hears her descending the stairwell.

He can hear her correct her pace three quarters of the way down and he laughs softly to himself. He doesn't know what he did to deserve this woman, but he would do it ten times over if it meant that she was his forever. She claims that she is, but sometimes he can't help but doubt. Picking up the small plate with the sandwich he has made her, he moves to take her teacup as well, taking it out to greet her smiling face as she checks herself in the mirror.

"Here love." He tells her as he sets the plate down in front of her, watching as she eagerly picks it up and begins to eat. Remus can't tell if it's because she likes it, or if it's because she so sure they're going to be late, but at least she's eating it.

"Thank you." Nymphadora replies, already halfway through. She quickly finishes and downs her tea as well, stretching and in turn laughing as Remus places his cold hands on her slightly swelling stomach. She wriggles out of his reach and moves to take his coat from the rack, handing it to him so that he can be as ready to go as possible.

"Someone's a bit impatient." He teases in his usual calm way, gentle eyes watching her though they hide his fear towards this very appointment. He reaches for her hand and laces her little fingers with his, leaning down to drop a kiss on the top of her head gently.

"I don't want to be late!" Leaning up she kisses his chin and gives his hand a squeeze as she opens the ornate doors and steps out onto the stoop, tapping her foot anxiously as she watches him lock and ward the door. She knows that that's very important, but right now the only thing crossing her mind is their baby, and her eagerness to show him how magnificent their creation is.

Remus rolls his eyes and smiles softly to himself as he watches her nose automatically wrinkle as the sunlight hits her eyes in just the wrong way. They walk towards the alley, and his only too acutely aware of the stares they receive and all at once he feels too much like a pedophile but instead of shying away, he slides his arm around her waist as if to show the world that today he doesn't care and that they cannot hurt him. Today he is invincible.

He is so busy thinking of this that he is nearly knocked out of his daze as Nymphadora pulls him into the alley with a laugh, "penny for your thoughts?" She offers as they walk to the back.

"Nothing important." Remus replies as a little grin plays at the corner of his mouth.

Nymphadora shrugs and feels him slide his arms around her protectively, and all at once her stomach lurches and they have left with a loud –crack-

**Guh. They wouldn't let me log in for three days, so here it is! 3**


	5. A Blessèd Realization

Glancing around the London sidewalks, Nymphadora's eyelids droop momentarily as she grips Remus' hand very tightly. The excitement that had overcome her earlier that morning was now turning into ever increasing nervousness as they begin to near St. Mungo's. What if there is something wrong with the baby? The fear was beginning to grip at her heart until she felt as through there was a fist clenching it, threatening to break it into a hundred tiny pieces. She glances up at him through her eyelashes and smiles timidly, giving his hand another squeeze.

Back she goes into her thoughts once more and she thinks about two days ago when Molly came over to see her and find out about the next appointment. Nymphadora finds that as things progress, she's finding herself getting closer to the elder Weasley woman and actually grateful for the help and advice she is more than happy to give (and looking at the Weasley clan, she can definitely find it in her to trust Molly's advice). Nymphadora can look back on that day with a smile, thinking about the tea and sympathy shared yet again.

Molly commiserated about the morning sickness, the exhaustion and fatigue…it was nice to share this with someone other than her mother (who is still sending all sorts of useless articles since they have yet to schedule a visit with her; Nymphadora supposes they will have to now, if only because the hall closet is threatening to explode). Afterwards, Molly had insisted that Nymphadora keep her up to date on everything that was going on, and then had to hurry out to get Ginny some new dress robes. She had continued to sit in the living room, sipping tea and contemplating all that Molly had told her, the ecstatic smile still plastered to her face.

Looking up at Remus, she can see that he is deep in thought as well. Not wanting to disturb him (even though there is the fear pricking at her heart that he is thinking _too_ hard) she looks ahead, seeing the little pub he promised they would go afterwards. They near the hospital, and she begins to think very optimistic thoughts, crossing her fingers and her toes that nothing will go wrong, that there will be nothing to frighten her already skittish Remus any more. They step inside and she inhales deeply.

Remus looks about the clean, stark looking hospital foyer and memories seem to flood him all at once. Sirius' death, nearly losing his nymph, Bill being mauled by Fenrir. He closes his eyes momentarily and his hand unconsciously grips Nymphadora's for support. Deep down he knows that she won't understand the real meaning of this gesture, which she will probably misconstrue as excitement or giddiness, but the fact that she's holding his hand so very tightly and that she returns the squeeze makes him feel braver.

He leads her towards the front desk and signs in as the medi-witch tells them it's the sixth floor and that he ought to feel free to visit the tea room on the fifth during the examination. While tea sounds like a marvelous idea to calm his nerves he wants nothing more than to see the child within her and to be there in case something goes wrong. This time he won't leave.

Remus takes the slip of paper with their information on it and follows Nymphadora up the long stairway, passing all sorts of interesting floors that he thinks might be curious to explore (if, of course, he was immune to all sorts of Wizarding maladies of course), he doesn't think he's ever actually _seen_ a case of scrofungulus. He scowls slightly as he realizes his mind is running away with his nervousness and he laces his fingers with hers in an attempt to ward off anxiety.

They finally reach the correct floor and there's an irritating twinge in his left thigh and he thinks to himself he ought to exercise more often. Too bad he's always so exhausted. What a pair they make right now. Opening the door from the stairwell, he leads her inside and makes sure she sits down comfortably in the not so comfortable waiting area chairs. Remus strides importantly up to the counter and hands the information to the nurse who smiles as he tells her that he is, in fact, the baby's father and that he would like to be present during the examination. The nurse humors him and tells him congratulations and that of course he is welcome during it if he really wishes to; although he is more than welcome to go down to the tea room on the fifth floor if he should so choose.

The temptation of tea is not even an issue as their name is called (well, hers, but since he's tagging along he does so), and Remus jumps right up. His hands are shaking as he follows the calm Nymphadora into the small, cubicle like room and he realizes how much he absolutely abhors hospitals. At least this will be a joyous occasion. He hopes.

Nymphadora is asked to recline on the stiff bed and a large screen is rolled out from a seemingly non-existent closet. Remus feels as though he's very out of place. As if this is some sort of Mary Poppins joke. Perhaps he ought to go down to the tea room. He twiddles his thumbs and tries to think of a just excuse as to why he should when he hears Nymphadora squeal with ecstatic joy and he glances up through bleary eyes at the screen and he sees _it._

_It_ being a small, human-esque form on the screen that had been blown up about twice its actual size to be seen better. Nymphadora is smiling serenely from her uncomfortable position on the bed as the healer's wand presses on her swollen stomach. Remus is in complete and utter _awe_.

"There." Says the healer, who looks up out of bushy grey eyebrows and speaks through a gargantuan beard. He reminds of Remus of Albus in the way he smiles and looks at the two of them. "A perfectly normal, beautiful child." It was true; the child was completely _there_, fingernails and all. "It can hear you speak too…" The Dumbledore look-alike told them, his eyes twinkling as he watches Remus approach the screen, noting the utter wonderment at the baby on screen.

Remus has never seen anything so incredibly amazing and beautiful in his life. He kneels in front of the screen and he cries. Tears streaming down his face as he realizes just what he has been missing.


	6. Evening Out

Nymphadora smiles as she slides the black dress over her head (_with some trouble_, she thinks with a smile), glancing in the mirror as she admires the more evident bump in her stomach. She _looks_ it now. It's been a week since they had been to the hospital, and Remus was even worse than before. For Merlin's sake, she swears that men are more emotional than women when it comes to these things. She had to practically _drag_ him out of that room, an hour later! He had been so transfixed watching their baby on the screen that he seemingly forgot all about her on the bed, with the wand poking her very uncomfortably. Tears had slid down his face all the way down to the second floor, and she had to take him into the alley to wipe his tears before they went inside the pub lest he be given strange looks by the other patrons. She rolls her eyes as she thinks of this, and is glad that at this moment he is getting ready in the other room, or else he would be insisting to do everything for her (seriously, Nymphadora swears that if he could, he'd go to the toilet for her because it might be too strenuous).

She walks to the mirror, smiling at her reflection. She's found that she takes to pregnancy well, or perhaps it's the other way around, but no matter. She's glowing, and her hair is the prettiest it's ever been at this horrid colour, and she's seriously thinking about keeping it (but then she thinks really hard and figures it must be the hormones talking). Taking her hairbrush she runs it through until it's straight and shiny and she grabs for a few bobby pins, sticking it up so it won't detract from her favorite asset. Her nearly-very-pregnant stomach. She wonders what it will be like once their baby is born; she knows now that Remus wants this baby more than anything, and that makes her fill up with joy (and with her newfound largeness in the stomach area, there is room for more joy than before).

Nymphadora does not realize that she is staring at the mirror, her thoughts begin to fade into the appointment, and she can remember Remus' face as they heard its heartbeat, she can remember how he gasped as their baby squinted and she can remember how the tears returned full force as their tiny child moved to suck his thumb. These milestones had had such an effect on him, and while she had found them incredible and momentous, it kind of made her happy that he had taken such a strong reaction to them. Now she was reassured that he would do anything for this baby; that he wasn't there just because he thought it his duty. This was very good to know.

Sighing, she stands up slowly, perfecting the most comfortable position to be in as she moves to the full length mirror to admire the profile of her pregnant self, smiling serenely as she slips into her shoes. Remus is taking her out to dinner tonight, for the first time since she announced she was pregnant. She's very excited; it's almost like a date, and even though they are seemingly going about things the very wrong way, she's still overjoyed at the prospect of going out to dinner with him. It's very family oriented she thinks, and she can't wait to see what it will be like when they take their child places. As a family. She's so excited now she can hardly think straight. Nymphadora looks into the mirror, squinting slightly as she rubs off some mascara residue, checks her teeth for the umpteenth time and silently wishes she could morph away the bits of blotchy skin up by her hairline but she knows that it's one of the consequences and that she can just use makeup like everyone else. This has been a very grounding experience for her, not being able to morph away things just like that. She even thinks that she might not morph too much at all after the baby's born. After all, it might confuse him or her to see their mum in so many different colours and forms, and that wouldn't be very good at all now would it?

Clipping her locket behind her neck, she opens it and smiles as the photo of her and Sirius waves from one side, and Remus looks on gently from the other. She used to keep this in her small jewelry box, but she's taken to wearing it a lot more often. She's taken to doing a lot of things more often too; reading for one. After the doctor told them the baby could hear their voices, she had begun to sit in the library when Remus was away and read to her stomach. She hopes that the baby likes fairy tales, since she found a huge, dusty, old volume at the back of the library the other day and is now quite fond of the illustrations (which she explained in great detail to the child, "and Cinderella's dress is this lovely pink colour…with kind of, blotchy green leaves? Oh, no, that's just ink…"), and now she's been reading it story by story. Not only has she done this, but at night, sometimes she is just positive that she can hear Remus murmuring things to the baby when he thinks she's asleep. She knows that this information has affected both of them irrevocably.

Reaching for her turquoise sweater (well she has to have _something_ colourful), she slowly shuffles out of the room, closing the door behind her as she surveys to make sure she hasn't left anything on or done anything that might cause a fire or do detrimental damage to the house. Closing the door, she doesn't quite believe that she did look, so she opens it again, wrinkling her nose as she glances quickly around again. Happy with her conclusions, she slowly makes her way down the hall (not quite to a waddle yet), and slowly descends the stairs. She couldn't run down them even if she wanted to, which she really doesn't at the moment. There will be plenty of time for that later. She actually _feels_ pregnant now. Remus still isn't ready yet, so she places the sweater on the edge of the couch, sitting down on it and beginning to hum slightly; another thing she's taken to doing lately. Sighing softly, she closes her eyes, and continues the song orchestrated just for the baby.

Remus is pacing in his room right now. Quietly though, so she cannot hear the stress that's getting at him right now. He's fully dressed, head to toe in his finest robes (the ones with the patch on the left elbow), which he has charmed into looking quite good indeed. He wants everything tonight to be absolutely perfect. He loves her so much even he cannot believe it, and whenever the image of their baby flutters into his mind, tears fill up in the corners of his eyes as he remembers when he thought he would never be a father. As a teenager at Hogwarts, when someone asked what he wanted to be the most in the world he can remember having to refrain from saying _a father_, as the other children would have laughed and thought him a wimp. Which, he had been, but with good reason. Everyone had always dictated to him that, as a werewolf, he was destined to never marry, have children or, now that he thinks on it, be happy. Isn't it funny how the more you're told you cannot have something the more you so desperately want it? He sighs and a smile graces the corners of his usually sad mouth and he realizes that what they said was all lies.

He was going to have a wife, children and he was going to be _happy_.

Rubbing his face, he looks at the small pile of money on his dresser and feels a tinge of pride. He's been working to save up to take her out for a decent night's dinner for the longest time now. She deserves it, and he knows that he's not been much of a partner when it comes to doing spontaneous gift like things for her, but this time he's really tried. The other half of him is berating him for spending it all on a dinner when it could buy things for the baby, but he curses himself as these thoughts spring to mind. Tonight is important. For him, for Nymphadora. The expression on her face when he asked if she would be free (as if she wouldn't, Moody wasn't even letting her write letters anymore), had told him enough. She had looked positively ecstatic and though she was trying to keep it in and act casual, he could tell that this meant a lot to her, and he could not take that back.

He scoops up the change and sticks it haphazardly into a beat up old wallet, which in turn gets shoved deep down into the right pocket of his slacks. This is quite a bit of money to him and if it gets stolen as they walk he don't know what he will do. It pains him sometimes that he cannot buy her things; flowers, candy, jewelry, but she accepted him for who he was and that included _poor_, she had said it didn't matter and she hadn't once complained. That was incredible to him, for every day whenever he was out he was constantly hearing about so and so who left their husband because they had fallen for someone with money, or this woman upset with her significant other because he will not purchase her a new whatever it is. This always gets him worried; what if one day Nymphadora wakes up and says she's leaving him because he can't afford to buy her a new blender, or some other 'necessity' that she just has to have. He knows that he has to trust her, that they are having a baby and that she loves him, but what gets him the most is the fact that no matter what is said, no matter what she does to make him believe it he will always have these doubts eating at the back of his mind.

He frowns into the mirror slightly before running a comb through his severely graying hair and reaches for something else. It too gets stuck deep down in his pocket with the wallet. Sighing quietly, he reaches for his coat and glances in the mirror to make sure that he looks decent. He doesn't think he does, but that doesn't matter because they are already going to be a few minutes late to their reservation and he knows they need to hurry. Closing the door behind him, he exhales and sighs again quietly before he begins the trek down the hallway. Knocking on Nymphadora's door, he bites his lip and waits for an answer only to receive none. She must already be downstairs. He slowly descends the stairway only to be greeted by the back of a brown haired head resting against the couch's back. He can even hear soft snoring and that makes him smile.

Moving quickly to her side, he gently shakes her shoulder, pressing a kiss to her hairline as he watches her eyes flutter open and her head twitch to the side slightly as she realizes she's being woken up. The temporary dementia flees and she looks up at him with a crooked, bleary smile, "wotcher Remus, good thing I'm pregnant or you might find yourself quite sore." She teases as she slowly stretches. Remus is tempted to place his hand on her stomach, but refrains merely because he's so timid and really actually rather afraid. He smiles slightly and gives her hand a squeeze, helping her to stand up and get her jacket back.

"We'd better hurry, or we're going to be late." He explains as he drapes the turquoise cloth over her shoulders and laces their fingers together, opening the door, they step out onto the stoop and he places the usual wards on the door and rest of the old house.

"Oh, ok." Nymphadora nods, still overcome by the remnants of the little catnap she had the fortune of taking moments earlier.

Sliding his arm around her waist, he pulls her slightly closer to him as their shoes crunch some fallen leaves that have littered the sidewalk. It's rather chilly tonight, and Nymphadora leans her head on his shoulder and her fingers trace designs on the back of his jacket. He's taking her to a very expensive restaurant, one just around the corner but is reservation only and one that he's only ever seen the outside of. One that he's only ever _dreamt_ about going into. It's Italian, and it's even got a little red carpet leading inside. He thinks she'll like that, She is, after all, the only witch he knows who can spin off the greatest trivia about muggle award shows (he only knows they give out little statue things and have red carpets). She always claims it's because she only got one channel at her flat and that was the only thing that was ever on at night on the days she actually had time to watch them.

They near it, and his heartbeat becomes more rapid. What if she doesn't like it? Does she even like Italian? Has he ever asked? Has he ever seen her eat spaghetti? He fees his hands get clammy, and a cold, nervous sweat breaks out on his forehead. Remus glances down at her and notices how her free hand is placed on her stomach and she seems to be humming. She looks very concentrated, and he realizes that he was so worried he hadn't heard that she was murmuring Beatle's lyrics and that her head was bobbing slightly. He laughs quietly and kisses her hair and he is rewarded by a warm smile as she looks up at him with joy-filled eyes.

Remus leads her down the carpet (at which, she squeals and tries to stride importantly, but ends up just looking too much like a penguin) and inside the restaurant, giving his name and watching as the hostess shows them their table. Nymphadora looks around in awe as she realizes where they are, and what Remus must have had to do to get them here. She looks up at him and smiles, a real, truth filled smile. She loves him so much. She knows that he has sacrificed a lot to be with her, and that means quite a bit.

"This is very nice Remus, thank you so much." She murmurs as the waiter brings them the wine list. Remus sends it away and orders them both sparkling cider. If they can't have champagne, they'll have the next best celebratory drink.

"You're very welcome." He answers, smiling at her across from the candlelit table.

They both pick up the menus and ponder over what they will have for their dinner, both carefully scanning the prices and both swallowing hard as they do. Nymphadora thinks that from now on she's going to get Molly to teach her how to cook. That way Remus doesn't feel he has to do this. While she thinks that spontaneity and gifts are fun, him loving her is more important, and his comfort and happiness is vastly more important in the scheme of things.

They both finally decide on some sort of pasta dish with chicken and take to doing the cliché; staring at each other for a long while until their food actually comes. Then they begin to have a conversation, and this is not at all like the ones before. This one is full of laughter and smiles as they reminisce about Sirius, about Hogwarts, about their childhood. Remus takes to telling her embarrassing stories of her youth which makes her feel the need to flick tomato sauce in his direction and she only refrains because this is such an expensive restaurant. Had each dish been about half its price, she would have.

Dessert comes, a piece of chocolate cake with two forks, and they are both eating it and Nymphadora giggles as Remus gets a piece of icing on the edge of his nose. She reaches over with her thumb to take it off and he catches her hand with his own and looks at her intensely. Nymphadora swallows hard and meets his gaze, biting her lip.

"Oh!" She jumps slightly and the moment is broken as her face breaks out in a grin that meets her eyes. "Remus! The baby! It's moving!" She places her hand to her stomach and giggles, gesturing for him to move over.

Whatever it is that he has been thinking is forgotten as he quickly moves to her side, kneeling down and placing his hand beside hers. He feels nothing at first, but then…all of a sudden it comes. It's not huge, it's not as if he would have otherwise said knowingly "oh that's just the baby" to anybody, it's just a light fluttery feeling against the middle knuckles of his fingers, and all at once the tears start back at the corners of his eyes again.

This time it feels more _real_ than ever.

---------------------------------------------------------

**I think this one's a bit longer, I just couldn't help myself.**


	7. Decent Proposal

Nymphadora is seven months along now, and she _feels_ pregnant. Sitting in the library with her feet propped up on the coffee table (which she pulled closer to the couch in order to do so, but she doesn't want Remus to know that because he'll have a complete fit and put her back to their bed and lock her in to make sure that she doesn't do anything stupid. _Merlin_ he was getting beyond overprotective), she picks up that intensely old tome of fairy tales and begins to flip through them; baby has calmed down a little bit within the month and thus her lower body has been relieved of its post as kickboxing mat. A yawn escapes her mouth and she realizes how much sleep she didn't get the night before, she just feels so _huge_. She knows she's really not, the medi-wizard even said that she was perfectly proportioned for her pregnancy and that there was nothing extra sitting around. Alright, maybe _some_ extra, but only because Remus had brought her a lovely box of chocolate frogs. Ok, so he did that three weeks in a row. Fine, so there were boxes _twice_ a week and she ate them all in one day but that's beyond the point and she _did _share! Her mother told her that it would serve her right if the baby was born with a birthmark in the shape of a frog. She reaches her favorite fairy tale and pauses momentarily, making sure not to rest the heavy book anywhere near her _gigantic_ stomach she realizes that she wishes she hadn't eaten all of those sweets because she really feels like some right now. Remus has gone out to the Ministry, having vowed to do the filing jobs that Nymphadora has had (no, has been _forced_) to neglect these last few months, so she figures she will leave a note and make a long journey down to the stores down the road. It may be muggle candy, but she knows that she will be in trouble if she tries to apparate there. Looking in the mirror, she realizes how silly she looks but knows she can get away with it because she's pregnant and that means that she has a different set of rules. Rules that include being able to wear ginormous, striped sweaters that reach her knees over ratty jeans (though those are her usual favorite jeans). Nymphadora grins into the mirror and rakes her hand through her hair and turns to the doorway to get her boots. Slipping on a scarf, she walks out onto the stoop, putting the usual wards and charms back on the house. Cursing herself mentally for not having left a note, she knows that she'll be home in time to start dinner before Remus even gets back.

The weather is a bit nippy out today, but that does not stop this young witch on her mission as she walks purposefully down the street to the sweet shop on the corner. She is getting distracted now though, as she walks past some of the clothing stores and admires the winter styles that are beginning to be put up in the window. Too bad she looks like a _whale_, or she would be having a blast finding new clothes. However, this doesn't mean that she can't have fun looking for others...Christmas is coming up soon, and it would be nice to get him something now, or at least an idea of what she should. Smiling at her newfound mission she walks inside of the store and begins sifting through the racks for anything that catches her eye.

An hour later and Nymphadora has left said store with three shopping bags full of things. Her original mission back in her mind, she sighs and wishes she was in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade so she could levitate her bags instead of having to carry them the whole entire way down the street to the sweet store. Oh the tribulations of her life.

It was nice that today this could be her biggest worry. Things had been going very well lately; there had been no arguments, no tears, no regrets...even Mad- Eye had been in a good mood lately. It seems that perhaps things are looking up for everyone. Nymphadora smiles as she thinks of this and opens the door to the candy shop, now completely overwhelmed by all of the different choices. Some of them even reminded her of her hair. There were greens, pinks, purples, reds and blues all over the place. It makes her smile wider than before and she quickly moves to the wall to decide upon what she wants more than anything.

Forty five minutes later and Nymphadora emerges with two bags of sweets and sets off back home to fix something for dinner and she realizes that it's probably going to snow later that evening due to the grey clouds that have started to swarm around the sky. This too makes her smile, as she adores the snow and even if she won't be able to play around in it as much it will still be fun to look at.

Taking the charms and wards off the house, she walks inside and is relieved to know that Remus has not yet arrived home and that she should have plenty of time to cook something for him. She's become incredibly adept at this; Molly has been giving her lessons and even if she is rather clumsy (she's found that now that her body is doing something it's meant to do, she's become a lot more graceful, though she knows that this is probably going to change pretty soon) this is something that she's grown to actually like doing and become good at. Of course, then again it might be because she's got nothing else to do all day long, every day, for weeks at a time.

Nymphadora walks into the kitchen, setting the bags down on the dining room table, and takes out some pots after deciding to make some soup. Sifting through the cupboards, she finds the ingredients and tosses them into the pot, her wand twirling them around and combining until the soup was simmering wonderfully on the stove top.

Moving over to the table, she takes out the candy and bites her lip, unconsciously rubbing her greatly enlarged stomach as she realizes just how much she bought. She'll have to hide some of it or her mother will have a complete cow, and she really doesn't want the other witch making a scene in front of Remus because it's just _embarrassing _when your mother is chastising you for eating too many sweets when you're _in your twenties_ for Merlin's sake.

Especially when Remus just sits there with a bemused expression on his face as he waits for the tirade to end.

Slipping the candy into one of the drawers she knows no one ever frequents, she goes through the other bags and smiles serenely as she takes out some _green_ baby clothes, setting them down to admire them before getting out the new jumper for Remus, and the scarves that she bought him as well. She'll give him the lovely plaid scarf today and save the rest for Christmas. She hopes he'll like them, though she's pretty sure he will.

With that, she begins to set the table for two, turns down the stove and goes into the living room to have a sit down until Remus gets home.

Remus still carries around the small box in his left pant's pocket. It's been months now since he had intended to bestow it upon her, but excitement kicked up that evening in the restaurant as the child began to kick for the first time, and things had long since been forgotten. Not tonight however, tonight he was going to do it no matter what. He sits at Nymphadora's desk in the ministry for the last five minutes of the shift and sighs quietly as he looks over what he has accomplished today and what is still left for tomorrow. For the first time he feels like he's really _doing_ something; a sensation he hasn't had since he left teaching at Hogwarts. Even if it is only temporary, even if Nymphadora is still receiving paid leave, Remus thinks it nice to be able to get paid for doing something productive, and he's more than happy to help. He had been positively ecstatic when Moody had asked him to, and even if he _did _come home more tired than usual it was a good kind of tired, and it made him smile. Kingsley walks by and gives Lupin a knowing look, pointing to the clock and shaking his head. Remus is turning into his nymph; Tonks had been known to stay late until she was positive that everything that needed to be done was done and then and only then would she go back to her flat. Not that she had much to return to before Remus.

Standing, he collects his tattered robes and slides them on over his battered jumper, before picking up the small briefcase that has his initials on it from teaching at Hogwarts (which makes him feel important when he carries it) and walks out the door, yawning slightly. He hopes that Nymphadora has made something to eat, even though he knows it's incredibly selfish to want that when she is seven months pregnant and really ought to be relaxing. Closing his eyes as he walks out into the light rain (which he's almost sure will turn to snow by the evening, as the clouds are getting grayer by the minute), and envisions Nymphadora and himself at the hospital, looking at their new baby. He truly cannot imagine himself being any happier. This is something he never imagined would happen and now that it's almost here he can feel himself nearly explode with excitement.

Passing the sweet shop, Remus decides that he ought to get Nymphadora something and even if it _is_ a muggle shop he figures there will be something there to her liking. Immediately he realizes that this store must have seen a photograph of his nymph because everything in there reminds him of her. It's a complete rainbow of different kinds of candies and he can't think of what to choose. Finally he comes upon a box of bubblegum coloured chocolates and he thinks that they look a lot like her hair and he realizes that they are the perfect size and he has a plan. Purchasing them, he smiles to himself and walks out the door, hurrying down the sidewalk until he reaches the house and takes off the wards and charms and steps inside. He can see her on the couch, she is obviously asleep and he doesn't want to wake her, nor does he want her to see the box of chocolates he purchased for her earlier.

He quickly moves into the spare room (which he knows has a hole worn in the floor from all of his pacing oh-so-long-ago) and opens the box carefully, taking out the small case from his pants pocket and opening it up to examine the shiny (albeit a little bit tiny) ring that it was concealing. He had saved up for months to get enough to afford something decent for an engagement ring. Remus is only concerned now that she'll think it's because of the baby; well, in a way it is, because had it not been for her tenacity Remus would never have realized what an ass he was being. Now he really and truly realizes that he cannot and will not live without her, and he wants her to be his wife.

Sliding the top off, he admires the way the candies remind him of her hair and takes the one from the very middle, sliding the ring on over it. It's a perfect fit and he laughs as he realizes how silly he seems but right now he doesn't care. He only hopes that she'll say yes. Sliding the box back into his briefcase he slips downstairs and into the living room, gently kneeling beside Nymphadora and tapping her shoulder.

"Nymphadora, darling you need to wake up and eat something." He whispers as he kisses her forehead, placing a gentle hand on her stomach.

"Oh!" She sits up a little too abruptly and nearly topples off of the couch, feeling a bit dizzy from getting up too quickly. "I've got soup ready, come in and sit down." She smiles and gives him a brief peck on the lips before waddling (and now she really is waddling) into the kitchen, yawning as she goes to stir the soup. "How was work?" Tonks asks as she ladles the soup out into the bowls with a little yawn.

"Oh, it was fine. Just paperwork, you ought to know dear." He laughs softly and Nymphadora thinks it's a very lovely sound and she hopes to hear it far more often. Remus watches her and smiles, thinking how beautiful she looks.

Nymphadora, on the other hand, seems to read his mind because she scowls as she hands him his bowl, "I feel a right _whale_ today." She complains as she sits down, her hand on her stomach as she stirs idly at her soup, "I mean, I've never felt so _gigantic._"

Remus looks at her and he really doesn't mean to, but he just can't help it and he bursts out laughing. Backtracking quickly he leans across to take her hands and smiles, "you're beautiful Nymphadora, and you're not huge, on the contrary." He tells her and he knows that she's taking it seriously because she blushes and starts laughing and shaking her head.

"Sorry, I suppose I just feel huge." She replies with a little sigh, before they both begin eating. Already Nymphadora feels like Molly, she's criticizing everything she makes and mentally adding and removing ingredients and she feels very silly doing it and shakes her head. She can feel Remus' eyes on her and knows he's probably wondering what on earth is going on with her, but she doesn't care. She looks up and smiles at him, taking some crackers from the middle of the table and crumbling them into her soup. She realizes that Remus is looking far more thoughtful than usual this evening and she wonders what's going on. Not daring to ask, she takes a sip of water and then leans back in her chair as the baby shifts only slightly, but enough for her to laugh quietly.

Remus looks up from the table and smiles at her as he realizes why she's laughing. He hopes that their child has her sense of humor and love of life; he's sure that she will make an incredible mother. He prays that he will do a good job. Everyone's always said that he's good with children but you never know until you actually have one of your own. Now he wishes that he could have had more time to practice. Only two months left and he was feeling incredibly nervous. But in a good way.

Nymphadora stands up and takes their bowls, placing them in the sink as she begins the washing up, humming lightly to herself as she watches Remus sitting there, obviously pondering about something but she has no idea what. If she knew she would probably have either fainted or burst into tears. Damn hormones. Turning back to the soapy water, she can hear the scraping of his chair being pushed back against the floor as he rises and walks up behind her, sliding his arms around her with a little smile.

"Leave it, you can do it later." Remus tells her as he presses his face into her hair, inhaling the herby scent of the shampoo she uses while his hands lay flat against her stomach.

"But if I don't now, they'll be impossible to clean later." She counters as she leans back against him, shaking her head. "You must stop distracting me." She teases.

"Leave it." He repeats, taking one of her soapy hands in his and lacing their fingers. His voice is kind and gentle but firm as he speaks and Nymphadora feels her knees go quite weak.

"Alright, but only for a few minutes." She tells him as she follows him into the living room. He leads her to the couch where she sits down, trying to avoid the huge novel of fairy tales as she does so, doing her best to lean comfortable against the side.

Remus, instead of sitting beside her, sits on the coffee table (which he notices has moved considerably closer to the couch since he was in here last) and smiles softly at her. She finds it a little unnerving but does nothing, merely watches him as he watches her.

"There is something I need to tell you Nymphadora." He begins. He knows that he sounds a bit ominous starting out like that, and as soon as he sees the small speck of fear in the back of her eyes he mentally kicks himself and reaches out to take her hand gently. "You know that I love you more than anything." He tells her, and he watches as the tears begin to well in the corners of her eyes.

How can he even think about doing this to her? Nymphadora is fighting back tears and rage and trying to be calm, even if her hand is beginning to strangle his.

"There is no one else that I will ever want to be with; I know that it's very hard for me to voice these feelings to you." He sighs softly and shakes his head as he tries to formulate the right words, but none are coming. Here sits intelligent Remus Lupin, most intelligent wizard in his class and he's reduced to mumbles as he sits in her presence. Finally he can't take it any longer and he averts his eyes, looking towards the briefcase. None of this was going according to plan. Sliding it over, he opens it up and brings out the box of candies. "This is for you." He tells her as he sets it in her lap.

Nymphadora recognizes it as the only box she _didn't_ purchase earlier. It was too expensive. He bought this for her? She looks up at him momentarily and bites her lip as she looks back down and something shiny catches her eye. She thinks it's merely the foil that encases each sweet but upon further inspection she sees that it's something _attached _to the pink and she opens the lid and stares down at the tiny diamond that's staring directly back at her.

Remus sighs as he curses himself for letting impatience come before planning. He kneels down in front of her and takes her hands in his, looking up at her surprised face. "Will you marry me?" He asks her very quietly, gauging her reaction as he feels her fingers unconsciously squeeze his own.

Nymphadora is completely and utterly shocked. She simply cannot believe that Remus is asking her to be his wife and that there was a ring sitting on a very expensive chocolate on her lap. Is it a dream? She squeezes his hand tightly and realizes that it's not, that this is really happening. She feels tears leaking down her face and she curses her stupid hormones as she sets the box on the couch beside her before throwing her arms around him as best she can (considering the major protuberance) before kissing him soundly.

"Of course I will you daft prat."

--------------------------------------

**One word. Finals. --**


	8. An Interesting Evening

Two weeks until the actual due date and Nymphadora is feeling incredibly antsy. Antsy to the point of pacing up and down the hallway because she read in some muggle book from who knows when that pacing induces labor. Twice already have there been false alarms, and she knows that if there's another one, Remus might just have a heart attack. There is still a dent in the wall from the last time; when he was in such a hurry to get her to St. Mungos that he didn't watch for the desk, tripped over the leg and went careening into it, causing the top left corner to push back into the wall and _stick_. Remus was the one who ended up _really_ having to go to the hospital, needing a deep cut mended as Nymphadora sat in the waiting room, practicing her breathing exercises as the medi-witch went over false alarms with her for the second time. Tonks had scowled and nodded and pushed herself up from the chair, feeling very grumpy and incredibly tired. Poor Remus had had to bear the brunt of it, but he knew that it was for a very good cause indeed. Thus he could live with it couldn't he? Even if he did feel a bit silly with a bandage covering part of his head. Tonks laughs slightly as she relives that moment again, sitting on the edge of the couch as she sighs loudly, popping another one of the chocolates into her mouth. She is roughly the size of Dudley Dursley at approximately age ten, but is to the point of not even caring. The only thing on her mind right now is getting that thing _out_. She admires the rings on her left hand and leans back slightly against the couch, sighing happily as the recollection of their small wedding is pushed away so she can concentrate on perhaps sleeping a bit before Remus gets home from finishing up _her _work. Tonks knows she ought to feel badly that he's the one doing her paperwork, but the only feeling she has right now is the lovely, satisfying feeling of euphoria one can only get from finishing off an entire box of expensive chocolates and knowing that it is going to have no effect on their weight whatsoever.

Besides, she can always morph it off afterwards anyway. She hasn't seen her _actual_ body in years, who knew what it looked like now. She certainly didn't want to see it. The door of Grimmauld opens, but Nymphadora knows that it's not Remus, that it's just Kingsley but all of a sudden she feels very _whale-like_ and wishes that she could keep _all _company away. She can't though, she has to let them in; it's not their house. Though the order _has _communally decided that since Nymphadora's flat is too small, and Remus well, doesn't _have _one, the newlyweds and their baby can live there. As long as they keep it tidy for meetings and aren't too loud. Ha.

Looking up from her very comfortable position she can see that Kingsley is wiping off his shoes from the rain on the welcome mat and moving to hang up his coat.

"You can take off your shoes please." Tonks states in a very pompous voice, hoping that it sounds as if she owns the place. It has the desired effect and she can see the rich, brown eyes roll and the feet comply with her orders before the man walks gracefully into the room.

"Well Nymphadora, you look positively gorgeous today." He comments with a smirk as he notes the unwashed hair and raggedy sweater that sort of makes her look like the bag lady down at the end of the street.

"Why, thank you Kingsley, I didn't know you noticed. Means _so _very much." Nymphadora returns while her eyelashes flutter overdramatically before that simple action causes a sneeze.

That simple action causes the man to laugh; a deep, rumbling sound. "Remus is a very lucky man indeed." He tells her as he sits down on the chair opposite her favorite couch (which, if you look closely, you can see has a spot worn in it where she sits every day) and rests his arms on the sides tiredly.

"I'll tell him you said that, sometimes he needs reminding." Nymphadora jokes as she moves to stand up. Better to start now, since by the time she finishes asking if he wants anything, she will probably only have risen to an eighty five degree angle to the couch. "Can I get you some tea?" She asks, this time she's made it nearly ninety and is quite proud of herself.

"That's alright." Kingsley answers as he takes out a folder and sets it on the table. "I sneaked you some lesser files that they won't miss. You can go over them and tell me if you see anything." He tells her with a wink as he stands up, watching her carefully as she slumps back down into the pillowy cushions and sighs with relief.

"I love you _so_ much right now Kingsley Shacklebolt."

"Don't let Remus catch you saying that." The other man teases, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have my own family to get back to. And if there's anything I've learned from my wife it's that it's not a very enjoyable thing to be around a woman who's eight months pregnant and impatient by nature."

"Thanks a lot. Don't let Remus catch _you_ saying _that_; don't give him ideas." Nymphadora mumbles, though she's smiling. She looks over at the file folder on the coffee table and wonders what she would do without such good friends.

"See you later then, and _hopefully _with someone extra eh?" Kingsley grins and pats her shoulder before she watches him leave out of the corner of her eye and relaxes a bit more against the couch, her eyes closing even while she tries to muster the energy to get to the file. But _Merlin _she's just _so _tired.

That is the last thing she thinks of before she blanks out and falls fast to sleep.

Remus has had a very long day. Mad-Eye saw fit to give him the papers he needed all out of order. _Then_ the only quill he could find in a ten mile radius wrote with _pink ink_ and it kept misspelling things. Now it's pouring down rain and Remus is standing in front of the doorway with his wand, trying to aim it properly while the drops fall in front of his very tired eyes. He prays that perhaps Nymphadora will hear and come to his rescue, but it's right about now that she usually takes a nap and is incredibly hard to rouse. Damn.

It really is quite a pathetic sight; his clothes are incredibly drenched and hanging off of him like a sort of saggy skin, his hair is sticking to his head, and the raindrops are zigzagging down his face emphasizing the stubble he's gained from not shaving in a few days. Finally he's inside and he can hear the soft snoring his wife has gained in these later months of her pregnancy. He finds it rather endearing now, not so much at three o'clock in the morning when he's almost positive she woke him up to tell him _it's time_ but it's really just his paranoia waking him up and then he can't get back to sleep because of the loud breathing beside him. O' the tribulations of Remus.

The former professor has decided he will make the dinner tonight, and even if that just consists of beans on toast and a full tea kettle he thinks it ought to suffice. As it's cooking, he pulls out his newest book and begins to flip through the pages, finding where he's left off so he can get some more calm reading time in before the baby comes. Then he's sure all Hell will break loose. In a very good way of course.

Nymphadora can smell the food in the other room and she struggles to quietly sit up and waddle her way in, her hand moving to rub his back as she sighs quietly, her other hand on her stomach (which she's sure is just going to fall right off with the direction it's going).

"You alright love?" She asks very quietly, wrinkling her nose slightly before remembering that it was _last month_ that beans on toast made her have to run into the loo. Thank Merlin. "You seem very tired." She hopes he's okay, she knows that this false alarm thing has been wearing both their nerves down.

"Yes, I'm just fine." Remus reassures with a kiss to her forehead as he places their plates on the table and pulls out her chair for him.

"Such a gentleman." She murmurs as she sits down and realizes how hungry she really was. They are both finished within minutes and soon find themselves in the living room; him reading, she lounging and humming slightly off key. The mood is far more relaxed.

"Let's get some rest." Remus suggests, helping his wife up as she gives a small noise at such offense.

"No…I was so very comfortable." She protests as she pouts and closes her eyes tightly.

"You'll be more so in bed, believe me. I promise."

"Fine."

Within minutes, they are both lying in bed, limbs entwined as much as possible, and her head on his chest.

Two hours later and Nymphadora is feeling those pesky pains again and she groans, curling her toes and trying to ignore them.

Unfortunately, this time they did _not_ want to be ignored, and all of a sudden Nymphadora feels as though she's had a bit of an accident and she's trying to backtrack in her mind as to when the last time she wet the bed was and why the Hell was she doing it now? She knew there was lack of extreme bladder control, but since _why _was it so hard to-

Oh.

Oh. Oh my.

Oh. Oh my. Oh my _God_.

Two minutes and one incredible realization later, Nymphadora is poking Remus' shoulder in a panicked motion. "Remus…" She hisses quietly.

Remus is dreaming about quiet. He's a gigantic sunflower on a hill and is enjoying a calm, summer day just listening to the breeze when all of a sudden his petals are being tugged and he's feeling rather annoyed. Then the tug-er happens to be Nymphadora and he feels mad at himself for being so paranoid before feeling himself be practically shoved off of the bed.

"Bloody git! I'm trying to _wake you up_." Tonks is saying through gritted teeth as she tries to sit herself up.

"I'm sorry!" He apologizes profusely as he rushes to his feet. "It's just, we've had so many false alarms and I'm so paranoid." He tries to explain, "how do we know this isn't just another one?" He questions with a little sigh, obviously failing to register the expressions on his wife's face.

"_That_ is how we know it's not." Nymphadora points to the very damp sheets and then to her face. "_This_ is how we know it's not."

'Oh.' He thought to himself.

'Oh. Oh my.'

'Oh. Oh my. Oh my _God_.'

Her eyes might as well have been red; Remus stood at attention now and was ready to do whatever he was told; which was, he imagined, to get her to St. Mungos as quickly as possible.

Thank Merlin for suitcases, thank Merlin for quick changes of clothes, thank Merlin for being able to floo into St. Mungo's tea shop.

Everythingis fine, until they ask Remus to stay in the waiting room until Nymphadora could be situated in a room. He thinks he is going to spit.

Sitting down in one of the seats, he picks up a Witch's Weekly and tries to flip through the pages, praying that he will be allowed in for the birth.


End file.
